New Mutants: Class of '07
by Low-Ki
Summary: After the events of New XMen 150 I decided to re-write my story, which starts again here in a much more realistic form...


New Mutants: Class of '07  
  
Prologue- New Beginnings  
  
*Authors note: Well here we go again. After the events of the Planet X ark in New X-Men, issues 146-150, I decided I need to re-write this. If you haven't read the ark mentioned above, I highly recommend it, and there will be spoilers for it. So there you go.  
  
One month has passed since the funeral of Jean Grey, the X-Man known as Phoenix. Emma Frost, known as the White Queen has accepted the responsibility of running the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters now that Charles Xavier has retired himself to a simple life on the grounds.  
  
"This afternoon the new class of students is to arrive." Emma addressed the other X-men, soon to step back into the often uncomfortable role of teachers. Sitting around a large table in the room that had been turned into the teacher's lounge was Henry McCoy, Ph.D; better known as the Beast, Scott Summers, the Cyclops, Ororo Monroe, know also as Storm, Emma herself, and a man known as Wolverine. "We are expecting a little over two hundred students, between the ninth and twelfth grades. You are all prepared for the start of classes tomorrow?" She asks. There is a general murmur of agreement. "Good, if there are any questions you all know where to find me." She finishes, turning lightly on her heel and exiting with an air of dignity and class only she has.  
  
"Well, here we go again." Wolverine says, leaning back in his chair lazily. "Another group of brats for us to ruin." He smiles as his teammates stare at him. "What?" He asks, shrugging. "We're on an 0 for two streak, you can't deny that."  
  
Cyclops just stares at him. Beast shakes his head as Storm speaks.  
  
"Logan, I do not believe our efforts have been failures in the slightest." She says softly but strongly. The others at the table nod in agreement.  
  
"Whatever." Wolverine says nonchalantly. "All I'm sayin is we should try not to ruin these kids lives." He finishes gruffly, standing and leaving the room. The others exchange dark looks. A few minutes later the meeting disperses, leaving the X-Men with three or so hours to fill before the Xavier Institute reopens.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
  
A young man of sixteen is driving through upper New York. Linkin Park blares through his CD player as he flies down the highway at seventy miles an hour. He takes a look down at his gas gage and sees that it's almost empty.  
  
"Damn." He mumbles aloud as he looks up and sees a gas station a mile ahead. "I'm making great time." He pulls in and parks by a pump. Putting on sunglasses he exits and pumps the gas. Finishing he heads inside, returning a few minutes later with a large slurpy. Once he is out he sees three kids, about his age, examining his car.  
  
"Can I help you?" He asks them. They simply look at him. After a few seconds one of them, the leader speaks.  
  
"This is your car?" He asks with a smile.  
  
"Yea." Is the reply from the young man, who rolls his eyes, knowing what's coming.  
  
"Well." The leader starts. "GET HIM!" He yells and the other two rush the young man, who drops the slurpy and meets the first with a straight right hand that nearly snaps his jaw clean off. The second swings wildly, but the young man ducks easily and knees him in the gut, then grabs him by the collar and hem of his jeans and throws him head first into the metal pole holding the sign of the gas station up. The leader pulls out a gun and aims it at the young man.  
  
"Hmm, nice gun." The young man says.  
  
"Gimme the keys."  
  
"No." Comes the reply.  
  
"I have a freaking gun!"  
  
But the young man will have none of it, as he lunges forward. As he does a translucent metal glove extends from his hand and nails the leader in the face, knocking him out cold.  
  
Several people had stopped to look at this fight. One of them, a woman with a child beside her now screamed out. "He's a mutant!" This immediately caused an uproar, as human mutant relations have been at an all time low since Magneto's hijacking of Manhattan Island. The young man curses at himself. 'Two times in one freaking day.' he thinks to himself. Suddenly a smoke bomb goes off at his feet. He dashes for his car and jumps in and speeds off.  
  
Luckily for him no one follows him. He drives for another hour or so before he arrives at his destination, the Institute. As he pulls closer he sees a crowd of people gathered in front of the gates, many holding signs. The young man quickly turns his car around and heads the opposite direction.  
  
"Mr. Malone?" He hears in his head. Luckily he is at a stoplight, so slamming on the breaks doesn't stop traffic. "This is Emma Frost. We have spoken before. If you would please turn left now you will see a blue sedan. Follow it to the back lot of the Institute." The young man lets out a sigh of relief. He does as the voice told him and soon finds himself inside the large private School.  
  
About an hour later a large crowd of teenage mutants is gathered inside the spacious auditorium, ready to be addressed by the White Queen herself. As she walks out on stage, dressed as she is always, in a tight fitting leather outfit that leaves little to the imagination, several catcalls are heard from the Hormonally driven teenage boys in the crowd. Emma smiles slightly.  
  
'Should have been expecting that.' She tells herself. She clears her throat and the room instantly quiets.  
  
"Welcome to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters." She begins. "Here you will receive not only a first class education, but an education in your fledging mutant abilities. You will all receive individual and group training, and go on real-world missions. You will also make friends who can sympathize with your plight. Now, dinner will be served in the lunch hall in half an hour. If you would kindly break into grades so we can assign you to your sleeping quarters, we should be ready just in time. Thank you." She finishes.  
  
The students comply, breaking off and separating themselves by the large numbers posted on the walls. The young man who we have been following goes and stands by the Large 10M sign next to the other males and a man with an odd pair of sunglasses on. He leads them down a hall on the left wing of the complex, where the housing and recreation space is located. On the right is the school half of the institute where the classes are held. Aside from the large lunchroom the kitchens are located on the left side.  
  
The tenth grade boys are in a hall with the ninth grade boys and two halls away from the tenth grade girls. The same for eleventh and twelfth grade boys and girls a short distance away.  
  
The kids all gathered for dinner a short while later, many breaking off into small cliques of varying criteria. The young man gets his food and sits at a table, joined sparse seconds later by a boy he is roomed near.  
  
"Hey." The boy says. "I'm Latron." He's African American, with dreadlocks hanging by his eyes. He wears a Dr. Dre shirt with Chronic 2k1 printed on it. He smiles as he sits down.  
  
"I'm Ace." Our now named young man replies. "You in tenth right?" He asks. Latron nods. A few seconds later another tenth grade boy approaches.  
  
"Can I sit here?" He asks. He's very soft spoken. "I'm Swift." He says. He wears a Simpsons shirt and hat.  
  
"What's up with the nicknames?" Latron asks. Ace shrugs but Swift has an answer.  
  
"It's a mutant thing. New identities we come up with ourselves. To show we're "superior to humans, or something." He says. "I read it in an article online." He adds. Latron shrugs and resumes his eating.  
  
Ace lets out a low whistle as a group of three girls walks by their table. Swift looks up and nearly falls out of his chair. This gets a laugh out of Latron, who, like Ace is still composed.  
  
"You okay man?" He asks Swift as he straightens himself. Swift nods.  
  
"Wow, who was that?" Swifts asks aloud. Ace shrugs and picks up his disposable lunch tray and throws it away.  
  
"I'm goin to bed y'all." Ace tells them. "Two attempted murders in a day can tire anyone." He says with a sad laugh. Goodnights are exchanged and Ace heads to his room.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
  
"What do you think Scott dear?" Emma Frost asks Cyclops. They are sitting in her office, a large room that could well be a library. She sits behind her desk and he in a chair in front, a bottle of red wine between them.  
  
"Of what Emma?" He replies. Emma shakes her head, a smile forming at her lips.  
  
"Of Arsenal's chances this year. The new class you twit!" She laughs at him. He doesn't move, but Emma can tell he rolled his eyes behind his ruby quartz visor.  
  
"I haven't had much of a chance to talk to many of them." He responds. Emma shakes her head.  
  
"What's wrong Scott dear?" She asks him. She runs her hands through her golden hair and looks at him. "You may close your mind to me, but it's quite easy to see that something is wrong dear. Tell Auntie Emma." She says to him sweetly.  
  
He sighs. He takes a long drink of wine, draining the glass. Emma arches her eyebrows, not expecting the typically calm Scott Summers to seem so put out.  
  
"I just don't know how you talked me into this Emma." He says to her. "I just don't know if this whole re-opening the school is a good idea. Didn't we learn anything with the last time? Didn't we learn from Beak? Esme?" He asks her pointedly. Her expression changes instantly, from one of mild amusement to one of hurt.  
  
"I didn't think you would go there Scott." She says coldly to him. Her blue eyes staring daggers at him.  
  
"I just don't think we're making a difference." He says, slamming the glass down on the table, shattering it. Emma rolls her eyes. With a flick of her hand the glass rearranges itself.  
  
"Come now, Scott dearest. You must control your temper." She scolds him.  
  
"Sorry." He says coldly.  
  
"It's quite alright dear." She replies. "Now, we will have to continue this riveting conversation later. Fantomex still hasn't checked in and I need to find him, he's supposed to teach French. Hopefully Henry jury-rigged Cerebra enough to work." She says.  
  
They both rise from their seats. Scott walks rigidly to the door.  
  
"Relax Scott dearest." She tells him. "These kids are the future of the world. Like it or not Scott it's up to us to shape their future. The future is what We make it now, we can't let this chance slip." She says, kissing him lightly on the cheek as she walks out.  
  
Scott shakes his head and follows her.  
  
Ki's note: Well, as you can tell the whole dynamic has changed much more to a typical high school setting. I hope it reads better. To the three people who read the original I want to let you know the writing style will be different because I'm always trying to better it. Hope you all enjoy. Hit me up with feedback. -KI. 


End file.
